Hours later and I was no closer to figuring anything out than when I started. Sure, I had the details of Gerry’s plan, which was many complicated, but many of those details hinged on Gerry being the one executing it.

For example, the plan required smuggling a gun into Parliament. The problem is obvious: How would you get a weapon past the guards? Well, you can plant it somewhere beforehand, but normally guests to Parliament are watched very closely. Guards escort them to and from the Parliament hall. However, there’s an exception. If they’re the family of an MP, parliamentary traditions allow them more freedom to roam. While this is usually to give the husbands and wives of MPs the chance to rub elbows with their fellow rich and powerful, this rule would apply to Gerry and give him the autonomy needed to pick up a stashed weapon.

What if no one blames the pro-Constitution side? Well, Trieste-Vellan had put a lot of work into making Gerry Teralt a believable radical. It made sense, trying to pin the assassination of the Speaker on the pro-Constitution movement would be harder if there were no definite links. But Trieste-Vellan had really gone the extra mile. They’d had articles published under Gerry’s name about the Pacifist Constitution and his parent’s legacy, showing some radical and possibly violent views in them. They’d even prepared a manifesto for him, to be published after the assassination attempt, that explained his motivations and beliefs.

But of course, there were complications. Trieste-Vellan didn’t have another family member of an MP as a backup. They’d considered that, but Gerry had been confident in his ability and no other suitable candidates had been found. It made sense; there was almost no chance of him getting caught beforehand and everything seemed to be going well. They’d even hired him a few bodyguards, just in case something happened.

And then the military killed him. With magical wolf-people. That wasn’t an eventuality anyone could have predicted. Which reminds me. The military angle was a whole other mystery. They were obviously trying to intimidate Lavin, but I didn’t think they’d just stop there. The Pacifist Constitution was an existential threat to the military, surely they wouldn’t just stand by and let it happen?

Oh, there was also someone selling monsters like the minotaur and the hellhound. And that could be either Trieste-Vellan, the military, or someone else entirely.

To add a cherry on top, the Hunter’s Guild is after me and I’m actually a demon. Also, they may or may not be connected to this whole situation. Gods know they have motive, the Pacifist Constitution certainly wouldn’t help their funding, and the public has been increasingly questioning the role of the Guild recently…

I leaned back in my chair and let out a frustrated groan. I’m not made for political intrigue. I’m a Hunter, not a detective, not a politician, and certainly not a hero. I hunt monsters, follow orders, and don’t think about things too hard.

It was moments like these that made me wonder why Char wanted me back in the Capital.

Well, I knew why, but beyond wanting me to stay alive, I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I was particularly suited for a desk job.

A soft knocking at the door interrupted my self-depricating contemplation. I mumbled something and I saw Yvlan peak her head in as she cracked the door open.

“It has been hours,” she said softly, an edge of worry in her voice, “I have already found all things valuable Gerry had.”

“As have I,” I said, shuffling through the papers that have been tormenting me. My stomach rumbled and I noticed I hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in nearly half a day.

Yvlan smiled and said, “I got room service. Don’t worry, Gerry is paying for it. We can eat and then sleep.”

“I should keep going through this,” I said, gesturing to the desk. “I still need answers to so many questions.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“A good leader knows when to take a break,” Yvlan said, taking a slow step inside the room.

“I’m not a leader,” I said, waving my hand dismissively.

Yvlan shrugged and said, “From where I stand, you are. People follow you, you lead them. This makes you a leader, no?”

I wanted to say a lot of things to that. But, I was too tired to argue, so I just got up from the desk, stretched, and walked out to the living room. Yvlan looked pleased, but I ignored her and made straight for the cart of food that she’d procured.

I loaded a plate up with a pile of noodles, meat, and sauce, and sat down at a table and started eating. After a second, Yvlan sat across from me with a fish that probably cost more than my rent.

“So,” Yvlan said, “I suppose I am curious.”

“About what?” I asked.

“You,” she said, pointing at me with her fork. “I go for many years and see no Hunters. Then, I meet one. Many years go by and I meet you again.”

“And?”

“And so, after you kill a minotaur for me, I respect you enough not to go digging up whatever I can. Instead, I will ask you.”

Yvlan poured both of us a glass of wine.

“Ask me what?”

“About yourself,” she said. “I must understand the soldier I will go to war with.”

“I’m not a soldier and you won’t be going to war,” I said.

“You are investigating murders, yes?” Yvlan asked. “It ties into this man, Gerry Teralt. Brother of Lavin Teralt.”

I nodded. I wasn’t sure if I completely trusted Yvlan, but she hadn’t betrayed me yet. That meant a lot these days.

“It won’t spiral into a war,” I said.

Yvlan shrugged and said, “Surely not.”

“Anyway,” I said, “I haven’t lived an interesting life. There’s nothing good to tell.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Yvlan said, “but no matter. Tell me about your childhood. You are Valerian, but do you come from the Capital?”

I waved my hand dismissively and said, “I came from a small village in the countryside. It’s not too far from here, but not too close either. You haven’t heard of it. What about you? Tell me about Urelia.”

“You have been there,” Yvlan stated simply.

“Only briefly,” I retorted. “Do you miss it?”

Yvlan leaned back in her chair and got a far away look in her eyes. She missed home, I could see it in the way her edges of her lips curled into a smile and then a frown and then back somewhere inbetween. It was a feeling I knew well, but one I hadn’t let last for longer than a few seconds at a time. Homesickness was a dangerous thing in my business. Attachments of any kind rarely went over well. A homeland, family, or lovers, they were all things that could be exploited by enemies and allies alike. A Hunter should be loyal to the Guild first and foremost, nothing else. I had a feeling that Yvlan’s life was similar to mine in this regard.

“In Urelia,” she said, her voice soft, as if recounting a dream, “during the summers the sun blazes overhead, scorching the earth below. When it is not burning, the monsoons come through and drench everything. After the rains, the land becomes so wet that it forgets what it is like to be dry.

“And during the winter, snow piles higher than a man stands, blanketing the entire land in blinding white. The land freezes and all is still until the spring thaw, when life resumes.

“It is not an easy land to live in. But its brutality has left it untouched. While your people dammed rivers, felled forests, and hallowed mountains, Urelia has remained unspoiled. Your air, choked by the smog of industry, has forgotten what cleanliness is. Your land, tamed by roads and cities, has forgotte what the wilds are. Urelia remembers.”

I looked out the window to the street. Though it was night, people milled about, basking in the residual glow the Capital gave off. In the city, it was never truly dark. In the half-century I’d been alive, the nights had been getting brighter. With every passing year, humanity seemed to push the dark just a bit further back. And with the dark went all the other things we feared. The monsters, the magic, and the wilderness all disappeared under the never ending light.

Yvlan went silent and I didn’t press for an answer to my question. I knew what she would say and more importantly, I knew the truth.

I began to think of home. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t chase those thoughts away.